The Warsaw Protocol: A Novel(40)
“I agree. I’ve had an awful feeling from the start. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when they told me you were in Bruges.”
That was about as close to warm and fuzzy as she would ever get, and he appreciated the sentiment.
“I’ll get the spear,” he said. “Then we’ll decide what’s next for both you and the country.”
“I’m in Warsaw, at the embassy. But I’m headed south for the consulate in Kraków. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
He’d assumed she hadn’t left, or had even been ordered away. “I’m going to do a little recon, then handle things tonight. The info you’ve already provided was helpful.”
“You think the Poles will be waiting for you?”
He’d told her his hunch. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“Then why go?”
“Because they need me to do it, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jonty arrived back at the castle, still shaken by the meeting. He could not decide if Reinhardt was being truthful or merely posturing, trying to edge his way into a deal that he had no part in making. Prior to obtaining the evidence on Janusz Czajkowski he’d done some extensive research, all designed to ascertain if what he’d been offered was real.
That was where he’d come across what happened to Lech Wa??sa.
An electrician in the Gdańsk Shipyard, working long hours for little pay like everyone else, Wa??sa became a trade union advocate and one of the co-founders of Solidarity. Images of his mustachioed face, being borne aloft by workers, became an inspiration for anti-communist movements across the Soviet bloc. He was arrested many times and imprisoned, but eventually led the charge to end communist rule, winning the Nobel Peace Prize. But he did not travel to Stockholm to get it, fearing he would not be allowed back in the country. He was the first to be elected to the renewed position of president of Poland. But his popularity waned, and he was defeated for reelection in 1995 after only one term.
Charges of collaboration had long dogged Wa??sa.
Two hundred and seventy-nine pages of documents eventually surfaced, all from the widow of a former communist interior minister, who’d tried to sell them. The similarities with what was happening here, with Czajkowski, were frightening. The difference being that Wa??sa’s dirt went public. The Institute of National Remembrance studied it in detail, hiring experts who concluded that the documents were authentic. The story they told was of a Wa??sa who led protests and strikes that shook communist rule in the 1980s, but had also apparently been a paid informant for the secret police in the 1970s. Wa??sa claimed fraud, saying they were created by the government to discredit him. A valid charge, considering the parties involved, and a court exonerated him.
Questions remained, though.
The issue of collaboration recurred when the conservative Law and Justice party, run by a former anti-communist activist, an enemy of Wa??sa’s, assumed power. Eventually, Wa??sa admitted signing a commitment to inform for the SB, but denied ever fulfilling it. There were at least thirty reports bearing the signature of “Bolek,” the code name assigned to Wa??sa, all deemed authentic. In addition, there were cash receipts for payments to him that also bore his verified signature.
Quite the PR disaster for a legend.
One Wa??sa never really recovered from.
Enough, Jonty had hoped, to scare Czajkowski into not tempting fate, making him willing to do whatever the holder of the information on him might want.
He entered the castle and told Vic, “Let the man in the basement go.” He’d already explained on the drive back what had happened inside the restaurant. “We need to go back to the mine. Eli included. Can you arrange it?”
Vic nodded.
“Please do it fast. I want this matter resolved in the next few hours.”
He’d made a deal with Reinhardt on the condition that the cache still existed and was marketable. If so, there’d be a joint auction. If not, he’d agreed to pay twenty million euros for his competition to stay out of the way. The Arma Christi should bring that amount. The rest from the auction would be all his. He had not liked making the deal, but there was plenty of money to go around, so he decided to spend what it took to keep Reinhardt at bay. Of course, if the cache was there, and relevant, many more millions could be made.
By them both.
So what did he have to lose by taking a look?
* * *
Czajkowski sat inside the Royal Wawel Suite at the Sheraton Grand Kraków. The hotel, a modern precast-concrete-and-steel structure, faced the River Wis?a, within the shadow of Wawel Castle, displayed in all its glory beyond the room’s east windows. He’d decided to stay over for the night to be close to what was about to happen, the move camouflaged by a meeting arranged with local officials, many of whom had been clamoring for a moment of his time. He’d managed to contain his anger with both President Fox and Tom Bunch. Both were treating him like a fool and Poland like a second-rate nation.
Which was nothing new.
Kings, queens, emperors, and premiers had been doing the same thing for centuries. But not this time. Sonia would make sure that would not happen.
How lucky he was to have her.
But he had to be careful. Poland remained a deeply Catholic country. While divorce was legal, the church frowned on it. Separations, though, were tolerated. But neither would be acceptable for the president of the country, and open adultery would be politically fatal.